


my boyfriend doesn't like the shoes

by bareunloveliness



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Drinking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Schitt's Creek - Freeform, no beta we die like men, past Grantaire/Eponine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bareunloveliness/pseuds/bareunloveliness
Summary: Enjolras and Eponine meet for the first time and swap stories about Grantaire, who accidentally slips up at a party. Inspired by a scene at the end of S4Ep4 of Schitt's Creek.
Relationships: Enjolras & Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	my boyfriend doesn't like the shoes

**Author's Note:**

> a lot of the dialogue in this is straight out of one scene from schitt's creek but i decided that i would write fluff for once in my fucking life
> 
> for my girlfriend emma who made me watch schitts creek

Grantaire knew that shit would hit the fan when Eponine and Enjolras became friends.

Okay, he knew that like, realistically, he was going to be fine, but two very headstrong assholes swapping only the most of embarassing stories about him was not a situation he was looking forward to being a part of. Eponine had been his best friend for years after they met at a particularly scarring college-orentiation event freshman year (Why would they put two thousand 17-18 year olds who hadn't been away from their parents for this long outside of summer camp in a giant arena and tell them to do ice-breakers? On the first Friday night of their college careers? Who thought that was a good idea?). And Enjolras? He had been Grantaire's rival for a year and his… his something for about two weeks.

They hadn't put a name on it, which was something that Grantaire was used to. Sleeping with someone and not talking about it was something Grantaire had been doing for almost as long as he'd known Eponine. Hookups, booty-calls, friends-with-benefits: he had done it all. The problem was that he didn't care about those people. Those people were not Enjolras.

There were two wolves inside Grantaire: one that needed to know if they were serious or his heart would explode because he had been crushing on Enjolras for the better half of a year, and one that did not want to jeopardize the privilege of getting railed a few times a week by a man built like a Greek god. He could never forgive himself if he gave that up.

As for Eponine, she had been hearing stories of the stubborn blond that Grantaire had been picking fights with and drooling over, and she demanded to meet him once they started… whatever it is they started. "Nope, he kissed you, I get to meet him now," she said firmly. 

"Did more than kiss me," Grantaire mumbled with a grin, already done with his first glass of wine. Eponine proceeded to hit him with a pillow. "What are we watching tonight?"

Grantaire chose the wine, so Eponine chose the movie— this was how it had always been. " _ Brokeback Mountain, _ " she held her tongue between her teeth, almost taunting him. No, there was no 'almost'. She was taunting him.

"I fucking hate you," he said, not caring enough to fight her on it. "There's a thing at Courfeyrac's tomorrow night. You can come and meet him and then promptly leave."

"That's cute, you think I'm going to leave."

She didn't.

Enjolras and Eponine had spent literally the entire night talking. Anytime Grantaire looked for one of them, the other was right next to them. He easily found Enjolras, not by the beautiful halo of golden hair that he wore with pride, but by the ugliest pair of sneakers on his feet. They were the French flag painted sloppily on the sides, and the worst part was that Enjolras wasn't even French.

Regardless, Enjolras sat on the left end of the couch, more relaxed than Grantaire could ever remember seeing him, and Eponine sat beside him with her feet underneath her, laughing into his ear.

"Talking shit?" Grantaire asked amicably as he took the empty seat beside Eponine.

"Absolutely," she said. "turns out we've both slept with you."  
"Okay, so that isn't news," Grantaire wrinkled his nose. "It is a very bold conversation to have with someone you've just met, but I get it, I'm irresistible and if Enjolras was bi, you'd probably want a threesome."

It might be fair to say that Grantaire had reached the point in the evening where he was sufficiently drunk. He wasn't a horny drunk, exactly, but did talk about sex more than the average sober person.   
Enjolras scoffed jokingly, turning to say something quietly to Eponine, who burst out in exaggerated laughter. 

"Ha, what's so funny?" he asked, although in all honesty, he probably did not want to know.

"Nothing," Eponine said, knowing it was the response that would bother him the most. "We have

decided that you're cynical as fuck."

"Again, that's really the furthest thing from news," Grantaire said. "I really expected more interesting conversation from the two of you. Color me disappointed."

"Oh, trust me, it was interesting," Enjolras smirked and Grantaire genuinely resisted the urge to kiss the expression off his face. 

Eponine caught onto this tension, and decided it was the perfect moment to get up. "I need a refill," she said, leaving nothing but space between the men on the couch.

Grantaire immediately looked away from Enjolras.

"You don't believe in anything, do you?" The blond said, sitting closer to Grantaire, who stared straight ahead. "Eponine was telling me that you only joined Les Amis because you thought I was cute."

"No, it was because I thought you were hot as shit," Grantaire fought with sarcasm, a biting wit easier to defend himself from vulnerability and from how badly he wanted to kiss Enjolras. These battles were two he was usually fighting. "You can't be surprised."

"I guess I'm not," Enjolras shrugged. "But why don't you believe in anything?"

"You want an answer?"

"Yes."

Something that most people learned about Grantaire when they met him was that once he started talking, he didn't shut up.

"The basic shit. Watched my friends get arrested and treated like shit for shit they couldn't control, which wasn't okay." Grantaire began to rant, as Eponine returned and sat on an armchair nearby.

"Let it out, Aire, let it out," she said quietly and quite unhelpfully."

"I'm sorry," he continued, " it's just that then I got kicked out for shit I couldn't control, which wasn't okay."

"Not okay," Eponine mouthed dramatically. 

"Nothing's actually gotten better since I've joined Les Fucking Amis, like, a year ago, which isn't okay, and my boyfriend is sitting next to me at a party wearing the ugliest fucking shoes I've ever seen in my life, which isn't okay at all."

Grantaire took a breath. Eponine and Enjolras exchanged glances.  _ Shit _ .

The biggest smile was plastered across Enjolras's face, though Grantaire could not bring himself to make eye-contact. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" The blonde said, biting his lower lip.

"I said that I joined Les Amis like, a year ago." Grantaire mumbled, knowing he had been caught. Blush waved over his cheeks, and he could feel Enjolras's gaze on him. 

Grantaire did not look up, but Eponine could see Enjolras's shit-eating grin as she tried not to laugh. Instead, he said, "I think it was something about your boyfriend's shoes?"

"Um," Grantaire stammered. "I don't remember saying that."

Eponine interjected unhelpfully, "Yeah, no, that's what I heard."

Enjolras reached down and started untying the laces of the French flag sneakers. "Well, hey, my boyfriend doesn't like the shoes. I could take the shoes off?"

"I mean, or not, I don't remember saying it, so you can do whatever you'd like," Grantaire tried so fucking hard to backtrack, but he would find little success in this endeavor as he took a long sip of beer.

Eponine got up and grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch. "I think my work here is done."

"And what work is that, exactly?" Grantaire asked as she put the jacket on. She left without an answer.

The party continued to roar on, the entire world not paying attention to the two on the couch. Enjolras laughed to himself, but it was sweet without any venom. "My boyfriend," he said, letting the words rest in his mouth. "doesn't like the shoes, so I'm gonna take the shoes off."

Fine, fuck it.

Grantaire swung a leg over Enjolras's lap to stop him from touching his shoes, positioning himself on the blond's lap. "Okay, before you do that, um, I just wanted to let you know that sock feet in Courfeyrac's disgusting ass apartment is also not okay."

Enjolras was, in a word, delighted, that his taunting had earned the privilege of Grantaire straddling him, and looked up at him with bright blue eyes, honored to be titled his boyfriend. "We do what we have to do."

Grantaire leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, allowed Enjolras the moment to pull away, and instead was rewarded with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> i DO have a note in my google doc of what enjolras whispered to eponine but i am NOT telling you!! also if you like les mis and my writing, i have a fuck ton of angst on my page that i recommend but i don't really have any fluff so. this is all you get.
> 
> comments fuel me thank u


End file.
